Bijou and the Borrowed Time

bijou the cat skis a slippery slope
mortal coil nigh shuffled past hope
bijou was dying, running out of rope
dialed 911 and asked for the cat pope

bijou, bijou, you had a kick-ass life
serenely dedicated to lack of strife
I hate seeing you go out like this
me too she said I'll miss
making you scratch my spine
but I have a favor if you don't mind
on thursday, if I'm still around
put me down, down into the ground

spent wednesday off times crying
bijou, bijou, I can't say - "you're dying"
you're the best cat I've ever met
thanks for letting me be your pet

bijou, you love to lie in the sun
doing nothing, toasting yer buns
I found a place for your eternal rest
by the big boulder over there, blessed

but on thursday bijou took a bite at noon
ate some more in the afternoon
and on thursday night showed some sass
the vet said well, one more pass
let's see how much fight she'll amass

well, bijou has now commenced
to recover life and limb and sense
like a hungry sprouted sprig
she's been reincarnated as a pig

and now that she's figured it out
she's born again to feast and pout
cuz all that time, right next to the bags of dry food pellets
sat cans of juicy stinky meat, for which she's become a zealot

in the ninth of her lives, she's doubled her weight
she rolls down the hall like a ton of freight
she has dispensed with all forms of doing
this cat bodhisattva's sole purpose is chewing

manifest destiny

one day we're getting lost

ripping along the freeway of desire
speeding west towards a new region

a new place to ramble

day two

we're still winging west

across the wide flat belly
of southern Oklahoma
in perfect time for the annual rodeo
in the city of boswell, state of OK.

just in time to watch

the bruising ropey river bull

flip and gore his okie cowboy

and a six year old rodeo clown in the stands
looks my way and whispers to daddy:

“someone’s here I don’t know”

day three, we're out on the panhandle

it's 58 degrees at dawn ignition

and six hours later

98 in the pure stank of bleachy Texas daylight
we suffer through Amarillo - - -
ninety square miles of cockeyed America
it’s flat in every dimension, including the future

we stop to pee in the dust

day four and
Dynamic Exuberant Manifest Inevitability
is our middle name, and we’re rolling,
rolling straight at the heart
of all that’s right with America . . .
infinite curves, pure possibility
straight up the cold hard east face

of the Rocky Fucking Mountains
hurling hi-beams at the blinding western bulls eye sun

day five we're at the The Hotel Fidel

orange, dry and cool

a flannel-red dawn in downtown Las Vegas, New Mexico
the real Vegas, baby, is this here Vegas
built out of adobe mud and victorian manners,
reality and Astroturf,

it's dry and high
prairie and mountain,

old and older still

ghosts in the alleyways

later still we're

as west as west can be

a brand spanking new region

the first chilly trickle of the rio grande

fattens mora valley

home to home grown pistachios

and other nuts, just slightly cracked

sun-yellow aspens blaze and spark

in the stop motion flame

of lightning showers